


Why Correct Hotel Reservations are Important

by Preelikeswriting



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, Hamilton doesn't think things through, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 23:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preelikeswriting/pseuds/Preelikeswriting
Summary: Hamilton attempts to explain himself to his friend after the events of an interesting work trip.





	Why Correct Hotel Reservations are Important

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cattlaydee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattlaydee/gifts).



The bar was mostly deserted by the time Lafayette got there, concerns about incoming snowstorms and bad road conditions having driven most everyone back to the safety of their homes. The warm air inside The Revolution was a welcome change from the biting december winds. He worked to peel off the layers he had accumulated throughout the day to combat the broken central heating unit at work, as he made his way over to where his friend sat slumped over his drink.

“Mon petit lion!” he said said clapping his hand down on Hamilton’s shoulder, causing the smaller man to jump and slosh his drink on himself. Laf waited with a grin for the inevitable yelling to start, for his friend to get himself worked up into a frenzy until the bartender politely asked them to leave or keep their voices down. But it never happened. Alex stared just stared dispassionately down at his now discolored cuff, before reaching over and grabbing a wad of napkins to soak up the mess. “Mon Dieu, are you dying!?” Lafayette said dropping into the seat next to him and fixing his friend with a wide eyed look of concern.

“What? No! I’m not dying Laf. Well,” he paused, “not yet anyway…” the last part muttered under his breath in true dramatic Hamilton fashion.

Lafayette clasped his hands on each of the immigrants shoulders and pulled, successfully manhandling him into facing him. “Mon amie, what did you do this time?”

Hamilton tilted his head back and mumbled something under his breath. “George…. Reservation…. John… drunk…. Eliza… Kill me…so dead Laf.”

“Alexander,” Lafayette said with a sigh raising an eyebrow at his friends evasive nature. He wouldn’t have called him here if he didn’t have something to say, “I speak two languages fluently plus a passable understanding of Spanish, but I have no idea what you just tried to said.”

Alex dropped his head down, giving Lafayette a clear view of the bags under his friend's eyes, before reaching out and finishing off what was left of his drink. He paused for a moment, no doubt preparing to confess to whatever trouble he had found himself in this time. “So you know that business trip Washington and I had to go on? Meeting with the southern branch?”

“Oui?”

“Well, apparently when I booked us a room months ago, someone at the hotel made a mistake, and suck us with a room with only one bed.” Laf nodded and motioned for Alex to go on. “They were full up for the night and didn’t have another us so we had to make do. I offered to take the floor because, he’s my boss and all, but he forbade me on the grounds that if I had to sleep on the floor the night before a meeting with Jefferson, I would probably kill someone-”

“A fair assumption.”

“But Washington is really, really tall-”

“No mon amie, you are just short.”

“-and hotel floors really aren’t the cleanest places in the world, so I don’t know I just said ‘Hey Washington, it’s a big bed, there’s plenty of room for both of us.’”

“Cher Dieu.” Years of rooming down the hall from him and Laurens gave him a rather clear picture of what had occurred.

“I’M A NATURALLY CUDDLY SLEEPER LAF! It’s a well documented fact!” Hamilton threw his hands violently into the air drawing looks from the few other patrons. “I don’t know, I guess I thought that a king size would be big enough? But nope! I wake up in the morning and I’m wrapped around Washington like a fucking octopus.” Alex slumped forward and rested his head against the bar, and said a quiet thank as the bartender brought him another drink, while Lafayette practically giggled at his friend's predicament. “So I think to myself, wow, okay, this was humiliating, but I can deal, we’ll all laugh about this in twenty years. The time Alex-tried-to-cuddle-Washington-to-death-while-naked-”

“-Wait, Naked? Mon amie-”

“Don’t. Ask.” Alex said punctuating each word with a glare. “So I figure, once the conference is over, I’ll find a bar and get really really drunk, until the hotel is just a foggy recollection and go on my way,” he paused. “It didn’t work in case you were wondering.”

“And seeing as the story isn’t over yet, I take it something else happened? Oui?”

“Ah, yea. I sorta, mighta, slept with Laurens.”

For a moment there It was like the Frenchman’s short circuited as he tried to comprehend the sudden jump in story. Alex slept with Laurens… Played on repeat in his head and he was stuck somewhere between “well finally!” and “so why isn’t he celebrating?” Eventually his brain settled on the ever-so-eloquent, “Wait what? How did that happen?”

“What do mean how did this happen? I got drunk, remember? Wanted to forget the seeing Washington naked thing?-”

Wait, wait, wait, I thought you were the naked one?

Alex shook his head. “You know what? forget I said anything.” Laf gave a sigh of agreement while mentally making a note to revisit the Washington event at a later date. “I got drunk. But not at some random bar like I had planned. Apparently there was this reception thing after the meeting, and, well you know, Jefferson plus free alcohol…” he trailed off, knowing his friend needed no more explanation. “John was there and we started talking. About college, and work, and what he’s been up to lately, you know normal things. But then he started talking about wanting to move back, back to New York, leaving the south behind for good this time. And.. I don’t know I just, I kissed him.” Lafayette watched as Alex began to smile unconsciously. “Next thing a know, he was kissing me back, and you know? I thought I was the luckiest man in the world, and we went up to his room…” Hamilton trailed off. “And it was fantastic, and everything I could have ever wanted, and when I woke up in the morning… I promptly realized how absolutely fucked I am.” Hamilton finished with a flourish, dramatically returning to his position slumped across the bar.

Lafayette down at his friend in confusion. “What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be celebrating mon amie?”

“Celebrating?” Alex moaned. “Have you forgotten about Eliza?”

“Eliza? I thought you two decided that you didn’t want to be anything more than friends?”

Alex got to his feet and ran his fingers through his messy brown locks. “We did! It’s not her I’m worried about… It’s Angelica.”

“Oh. mon petit lion, she is going to murder you.”

“I know.” he wailed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“And if Laurens is moving back into town, and she finds out you two hooked up not a week after you and her little sister… oh mon amie,” Lafayette clapped his hand on Alex’s back. “I will be sure to write you a stirring eulogy.”

Alex shook of his hand off and fixed Laf with a glare. “I’m fairly certain this is the part where you're supposed to offer some advice, not just tell me I’m fucked.”

“Alexander, only a fool would stand in the way of a Schuyler sister.”

Alex sighed dramatically. “That’s it, I’ll just have to flee the country. I have no other choice.” Lafayette rolled his eyes as Hamilton made to stand, as if he was about to walk to the border.

“Who knows? Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. We’ve all been betting on you two hooking up since college, she might take mercy on you. Forgive the whole breaking her sister's heart and hooking up with someone right after, that sounds so much like her.”

Alex sighed and tossed some money on the bar and climbed to his feet. “Well since you have been so much help, wish me luck.” Lafayette patted his friend on the back in a mock gesture of solidarity. “If all goes well I can drop that paper on the boss’s desk before she kills me.”  
“God speed.” Laf replied as he friend pushed his way out of the bar and into the cool night. He sighed to himself, “He doesn’t stand a chance.” The frenchman finished his drink in silence, before pulling out his phone to place a call to one, Elizabeth Schuyler, in order to insure there would be a piece of Hamilton left big enough to bury by the end of the next work day.


End file.
